We'll Be Alright
by Strange Romance
Summary: We'll always be alright, you and me." The Doctor is plagued by memories of Rose - and one fateful moment in particular. Post Doomsday. I promise it has a happy ending. Oneshot.


**Summary: **"We'll always be alright, you and me." That's what she had said. The Doctor is plagued by memories of Rose - and one fateful moment in particular. Not a very good summary, I know, but I can't give too much away. Post Doomsday. Not as sad as it may sound - I promise it has a happy ending. Oneshot.

**A/N **I wrote this quite quickly all in one sitting last night (8.4.09) after watching a Doctor Who fan video which included the quote below. I'm not sure how or why I thought of this but I just... did. It came to mind and I wrote it alll out because I was bored and had the time to.

_"They keep on trying to split us up but they never, ever will."_

_"Never say never ever."_

_"Nah, we'll always be alright, you and me."_

_---_

The Doctor was thinking… pondering… wondering? No. No matter how many synonyms he thought of he couldn't disguise the fact that he was not just thinking, not just mulling over idle thoughts while he went about doing whatever it was he was doing. The Doctor was remembering. Something which took a great deal more out of him than just thinking. Thus, at present he was simply sitting in the control room, watching the Time Rotor as it moved rhythmically up and down the central column and listening to the TARDIS' calming hum – it was a meditation of sorts really.

For reasons not quite yet discovered the Doctor had lately been plagued by particularly unpleasant memories from his recent years. Despite everything, he could not stop his buzzing mind from dredging up such painful memories. He had even tried sleeping more often, which was something he was loathe to do as he saw sleep as nothing but a waste of time. Why sleep when all those hours spent unconscious could be spent on some distant planet? Well, for him anyway. But sleep just lead to more vivid recollections of those same memories in the form of dreams, and he found himself tossing and turning until he could not stand it any longer, throwing his blanket to the side and jumping up to break and fix a part of the TARDIS. Even making tea, or going to the library just to sit and stare into the fire was better than the surround sound, technicolour of his three dimensional dreams.

On this occasion the Doctor was remembering a day which he could not decide if he wished to keep remember or not. It had been a bittersweet day, like so many before, and he had to weigh up the pros and cons many times – yet he still could not decide.

It was the year 2012, just a couple of days before the London Olympics. Rose was with him, she seemed to glow, vivid with colour. The Doctor wondered offhandedly if that was an exaggeration of his memory or if she had really looked that vibrant. There was a small flash, a blurred montage filled with laughter and smiles, hugs, jokes and long looks. But the happy memory dashed past much too soon, making the Doctor face what his mind had really been getting at.

They were walking down a street – it was Dame Kelly Holmes Close. Rose was to his right and he held a small cupcake in his left hand. The skies lit up with bright reds and yellows and many colours besides as fireworks exploded overhead. Suddenly the Doctor felt cold as an unpleasant sensation, much like a brick being dropped into his stomach, came over him. Something was wrong, he could feel it, chilling ripples through time telling him something was coming. But what was it?

Meanwhile Rose was still close beside him, each of them keeping the other warm.

"You know, they keep trying to split us up-" Rose began "but they never ever will." She finished, confident and defiant. A moment before the Doctor may have agreed… but the chill that went down his spine made him cautious.

"Never say never ever." He quipped, trying to remain cheerful, not wanting Rose to worry over nothing.

"Nah, we'll always be alright, you and me." She purposely defied him, but she sounded so sad and sincere; as if she was desperate for that to be true, yet knowing wholeheartedly that it was.

In the console room of the TARDIS, the Doctor squeezed his eyes shut, preventing tears from forming as they had many times before over memories like this.

In his memory he felt ill, she was wrong. There was something wrong in the world, in his world, when Rose Tyler declared something like that, with so much conviction, and was wrong. And the Doctor felt ill even more so when he realised that there was no proof that she was wrong, he was just pre-empting his accuracy because of a chill that might not even be a time ripple. He tried reasoning that it could have been nothing more than a cold breeze, however much he knew there was no mistaking the feeling of ripple in time. Though nothing he thought could convince him that he had been wrong… even if there was no proof that he was right.

His eyes closed tighter still as the next memory came. A blinding memory that stung his eyes and made his ears ring. He was forced to watch as in his mind Rose Tyler fell screaming through a stark white room towards the gaping maw of the Void. Tears rudely formed behind his closed eyelids as he remembered her heartbreaking scream and the realisation that it was his desperate shouts that replied.

This was his proof, this was his cold, hard, terrible proof. Rose had been wrong, and he hadn't told her. Would it have made a difference? He was numb… she had been wrong.

The Doctor jumped out of his memories, much to his relief, as he heard a noise from the depths of the TARDIS. Staying in his rather comfortable position in the tattered old jump seat, he allowed his eyes to close again as he listened in closely for another sound of movement. As the muffled sound became a constant repetition of footsteps the Doctor braced himself, waiting for the inevitable. Now the soft echo became more pronounced, filtering into the console room and as the sound reached him, he realised something. Something so obvious he wasn't quite sure how he'd missed it before. The sound had stoped, right next to him now, less than a foot away. Back in his memory the Doctor was holding Rose's hand, squeezing it gently to make sure she was still there. And with a deep sigh of relief the Doctor opened his eyes to find that sitting in the console room, he was still holding Rose Tyler's hand, squeezing it to make sure she was still there. He looked up into her eyes and as she asked him if he was alright, he smiled.

"Yeah. Just… thinking." And it was true, he was fine now; because she had been right. And as he followed her to bed he finally decided, he wouldn't lose any memory of Rose for the world. As held her close to him under the covers, he placed a kiss on the forehead of his sleeping lover and whispered with a warm, satisfied smile "We'll always be alright, you and me."


End file.
